It's Exhausting Being a Baby

Holden has never expressed much interest in anything at the zoo other than the plethora of "baby treats" he has in front of him. Every now and then he will look mildly amused by an animal or at best, vaguely entertained for 15 seconds.
On mother's day we took our fourth outing to the Cheyenne Mountain zoo in town and, in his usual fashion, he favoured the peach yogurt melts in front of him over the adorable antics of the otters or any other animal for that matter. At one point I discovered him slumped over the plastic bar in front of him in what I assumed to be an attempt on his part to retrieve said treats that might have fallen into his lap. What had actually happened was that he had apparently gotten so bored by all the tedious animal watching that he completely passed out in the most hilarious way I have ever seen a child sleep.
Shortly thereafter we left the zoo, and I assume that his drowsiness was so infectious that it attacked me midway home to the point that I actually had to pull over into the gravel driveway of "Colorado Custom Decks," and have an hour and a half long nap myself. We woke simultaneously; upset and with sore necks. Ah, the zoo. Always good for a story.

More later, don't miss me too much mine army of rabid readers! (Haha.)

X o X o,

♥luvcatt♥

Senioritis

Currently I am afflicted with a condition that was known in my high skool as "wanting-to-get-the-fuck-out-of-this-shit-hole-itis," more commonly known as "senioritis."
This condition affects those, like myself, who are about to be freed from the prison that is their everyday life and set free for a certain amount of time so as not to go on a homicidal killing spree. Symptoms include but are not limited to irritability, frustration, listlessness, becoming comatose or unresponsive to any kind of provocation and complete and utter disregard for anything. The afflicted individual may respond to interactions with others simply by waving a middle finger in their face or, as in my case, mumble about "not giving a flying squirrel fuck." It's rough in these last few days before my vacation.
My coworkers are doing their utmost to push me over the edge of sanity with their insufferable immaturity and I almost threw my (most hated arch-nemesis) cat off of the third-floor balcony of my apartment this morning when I discovered that he had relieved his nocturnal frustrations on a roll of toilet paper which was displayed in decorative patterns on the carpet throughout the house.

I believe that this sudden outpouring of rage originated yesterday with a woman I helped in my store who pissed me off so thoroughly that I was physically shaking whilst helping her aging-Malibu-Barbie-self. I won't go into detail about the interaction, but I will say that if I ever see her bitch-ass anywhere other than work I will punch her in the over-lipsticked mouth. And if she comes back today to berate me again I will tell her to her face that I refuse to assist her due to the fact that I don't much relish the idea of being spoken to as if I were her bitch.

Does he look like a bitch? Does he look like a bitch? Then why you gotta fuck him like a bitch?

After helping that poor excuse for a human being, my previous good mood (thanks to my $500 bonus) was totally ruined after this and not helped along by the stream of ass-lancing customers that followed until I finally ran screaming hysterically from the building at 8:40pm. Apparently that foul mood carrieed over to this morning. Add to that the fact that I still have ZERO coffee coursing through my bloodstream and the knowledge that I am stuck at work yet again until 5:30, which may as well be next year.
The only thought that is simultaneously torturing me and keeping me from stabbing people is that my vacation is only 5 days away; tomorrow is my last day at work before I actually leave. I am trying very hard to not take my inner rage out on my customers, the majority of whom are actually fairly nice people who don't deserve to be the reciepients of my frustrations. I'll reserve that venom for people like that woman who in all actuality deserve a good hard kick in the shins for being total douche hats who contribute nothing more to the human race than to give people a good reason to become serial killers.
But, to put a positive spin on this, I'LL BE IN SAN FRANCISCO THIS TIME NEXT WEEK BITCHES, WOOOOT!

That's all I can write for now without spontaneously combusting, so au revoir til next time mon amies.

X o X o,

♥luvcatt♥

Cinderella at the Ball

Last Saturday night I volunteered to attend the Junior Achievement Benefit Auction/ Banquet at the Antlers Hilton (a fancy schmancy hotel downtown) as part of a group of employee sponsors for the event. It was a black tie-optional event, which was my primary motivation for volunteering myself for what was guaranteed to be a brain-numbingly dull evening chock full of stuffy CEO's and their fuddy-duddy wives.

You see, I am at heart a huge girly girl and love nothing more than an opportunity to dress up as lavishly as possible, so at the chance of looking fine in my favorite LBD and pretend to be ladylike while stuffing my face with lavish hors d'oeuvres, I will be the first to jump up and scream, "TAKE ME TOO!"

So was it worth the painful fake smile I plastered on my face? Was it worth it despite the assistant manager of our North location ogling me shamelessly for nearly three hours?

Simply put, yes. It was worth it just because Derek and Lauren and I mocked the women wearing atrocious outfits whilst eating bacon-wrapped scallops (is there a more perfect food?) and because afterwards when my regional director jetted, we made our way to 15c, the cigar bar a few blocks away. Reminiscing about the woman who wore what appeared to be her puffy-sleeved wedding dress from 1987 and the adorable chocolate lab who was auctioned off for a ridiculous $1200, we smoked our stogies and drank our dirty dirty martinis with mock- James Bond style coolness. It was a good night.

In other news, I saw the new Star Trek movie the other night; I absolutely ♥loved♥ it and I think J.J. Abrams did a fabulous job really updating the look and feel of the crew and the Enterprise. I was already in love with Zachary Quinto before this movie, but now I am actually borderline obsessed with him. He was the hottest most badass Spock ever, and I fully dig him and his phenomenal eyebrows. I watched an interview with him and Leonard Nimoy with Jimmy Fallon and he was wearing the most amazing Buddy Holly-style glasses; I practically drooled on myself through the entire length of this interview. I think I have a problem.

Chris Pine was an excellent James Kirk though- as cocky and independent as I always thought he should be; the bad-boy attitude and womanizing green women were nice touches too. The only character that I was a little turned off by was Uhura- Zoe Saldana is a great actress and a beautiful girl, but bloody hell was she too damn skinny. It made her look severe and gaunt with her hair back like it was, and as a result I kind of cringed everytime she was on screen. Other than that minor detail though, it was well-cast and one of the best movies I have seen in a long time. And that opinion has (almost) nothing to do with Zachary Quinto... so there.

I think that's all I've got for now, but I'll be back!

X o X o,

♥luvcatt♥

FML

If ever there has been a time to vent and release some pent up rage, now is that time. I have been fairly bursting at the seams today to scream until my voice is ragged or throw something heavy at a pane of glass just to savor the satisfaction of watching it shatter.

Needless to say, this has been an awful morning. One of the worst I have had in months; I'm not relishing the idea of continuing this day unless it involves me and a fabulously comfy meat mattress and possibly a torrid affair with the guy who played ♥Prince Caspian.♥
I feel like I'm stuck in one of those A Series of Unfortunate Events books and bad luck is chasing me wherever I go. From the runny/stuffy nose that came out of nowhere this morning to the douchebag in the hoopty truck who wouldn't get out of the left lane on the interstate, it seems that today is just not my day.
Work hasn't proven to be any better, considering that even just now I unscrewed the cap from my bottle of water and said cap bounced onto the counter and then launched itself so far behind the computer that I can't even reach it. The little things like that just add to my chagrin, not to mention the CUSTOMERS THAT MADE ME WANT TO STRANGLE A SMALL DOG.
Jeremy and I call them richers, a term for obviously wealthy people who are so far up their own asses its absurd. They can be overheard at restaurants and other public establishments telling one another about the fabulous vacation they just took to St. Bart's or Switzerland and how quaint the local customs were and how much they missed their little Shih Tzu Muffy SO much because the mean people at the airlines said she couldn't ride with them on the plane. You know, the kind of people who have major entitlement issues because they think the world owes them something on account of how much money they have.
Generally these people make me furious because they all have the same haughty, puffed up countenance and wear their stupid cardigans around their shoulders. They fairly ooze self-appointed superiority and despite their obvious fundage they are the biggest tightwads to walk the earth, a combination which makes for a very unpleasant sales experience for both of us, because they want free phones and they damn well better not have text messaging on them. Admittedly I take some satisfaction in delivering the news that we don't offer free phones, but they could certainly try our website if they would like, knowing always that they'll reply loftily about how technology illiterate they are and something about having servants take care of computery-type deals FOR THEM.
An older couple of this pedigree were some of my first customers of the day, and I found my distate for their attitude settled upon me almost immedietely. The next half an hour spent attempting to unlock the thinking portion of their brains was futile to say the least, and the cocker spaniel that they thought to bring into the store with them probably realized that it had a much higher level of common sense than its owners combined, which is most likely why it whined piteously the whole time.

I hope their phones topple over the edge of their schooner while vacationing in Brazil, because they didn't want insurance on them, and I would devour an opportunity as delicious as informing them that the replacements will be $250 apiece.
I'm clinging desperately to the hope that watching the two episodes of Gossip Girl I have recorded will put my mood right... Chuck Bass usually has that effect on me. Ahhh- if only the richers that I helped had a wickedly attractive smirk like him, I could stand the pointed distate for Middle classers such as myself that dare not let them have their way.

I think that that rant was quite sufficient enough to temporarily quell the burning desire to shake someone... for now. As for the next four hours of my shift, I can't make any promises. Let's just hope I don't make the papers tomorrow for mass homicide.

X o X o,

♥luvcatt♥

Regarding My Upcoming Trips

Trip 1:

I am presently working on a novel about experimenting with drugs and experimenting in love and the respective dangers of each. I have based most of the characters on people I already know, mainly because sadly, I know a lot of kids who are addicted to one of the two. I haven't worked on more than a few chapters really but I feel fairly confident that what I have written isn't total shit so I will most likely keep going in the style I am now until someone tells me it's bollocks. I have settled on a title that I think is succint enough to give the reader a good idea of what they're getting themselves into: A Drug Induced Love Story.
I need to do some extensive research into drugs and other illegal narcotics because as far as that goes I'm pretty vanilla other than the handful of experiences I had in high skool with my good friends the Stoners. I'll update regularly with my progress aka I'll let you know if I decide to bugger off and do something different.

Trip 2:

In 16 days I'm going on vacation to ♥San Francisco!♥ S.F. is my favorite city after having lived there for almost 6 years, and I am in a constant state of homesickness since leaving it. I moved to Colorado Springs right after I finished my freshman year of high skool at the pinnacle of my punk rock carreer, so coming from an atmosphere of liberalism/culture/art/music/ocean to a city which is highly conservative/religious/whitebread/boring did little for me. In the following years I have made no headway in returning for more than a week or two at a time so little by little I feel my soul being drained away from me in this bleak, blasted wasteland brimming with overly-religious, brainwashed, homogenous zombies. (Not all, before you get all huffy and bangry... just most.)
So I have been looking forward to this upcoming trip with pee-inducing excitement that has turned me into an obsessive compulsive list maker. Yes, I have been making multitudes of lists detailing every article of clothing and toiletry that I plan on bringing with me, not to mention which peices of makeup to take, which songs to listen to on my iPhone while on the plane to distract me from the holy bloody terror of flying, and which places I would like to eat at when we get there. It's getting more than a little sad.
And I say we because I'm bringing Jeremy with me. He's never been before, being a thoroughbred Southern Cali boy with thousands of Guamanian/ Filipino relatives that live around that area. He's so cute. He actually asked me if we could go swimming in the ocean on our first day there. I advised him that to do so would be horrific for him considering that the water is like -34 degrees, but he insists that it will be well worth it. Silly. May or no, that water is cold as FUCK.
I'm really excited to take him to all my old hangouts and favorite restaurants and really to just get a taste of the city that helped shape me into the bizarre person I am today. The whole vibe of that place is intoxicating and addictive; so much so that I cry on the ride back to the airport when I leave. Normally I can't seem to find within myself any reason to come back, so at least this time I'll be returning back to Holden, whom I will miss desperately the whole time I'm gone.
I just realized that it will be the longest I'll have ever been away from him: my pudgy, drooly, two-toothed little bug. I haven't been away from him more than maybe 3 or 4 days at a time and even then he was right up the street at his dad's and I could go visit him at any time if I felt the inclination to chase his little bobbling head around corners as he headed full throttle for the dog's food dish. It will be strange, not being able to feel his presence for over a week.
So, the countdown to my trip begins and I will chronicle my daily fits of squealing anticipation here in the meantime in a last-ditch effort to preserve the last scraps of my sanity. I have no doubt that the day before I actually leave that my post will be something along the lines of:


OMMMMMGGGGGGGGG MY TRIP IS TOMORROWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! MY HEAD JUST A-SPLODED!!!!!!!!!!!!! YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Something like that. Then I will wipe the bits of brain and skull from my monitor and you won't see another word on this blog until my first bleak day back, which I expect will look about like this:

So. Sad. Miss city. Want fog. Ffuuuuuuuuhhh..........

Such a vicious cycle.

X o X o,

♥luvcatt♥